


I am a familiar creak in your floorboards.

by clownjuicee



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Sad Jerking off, Sad wilbur, Smut, Wilbur is sad and jerks off while thinking of his boyfriend. Thats it. Thats the fic.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:20:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26578201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clownjuicee/pseuds/clownjuicee
Summary: He would never forget that trip months ago and how amazing it felt to not fall asleep alone. To be touched and held and loved for just breathing in the same presence as his lover.
Relationships: wilbur soot / sapnap
Comments: 9
Kudos: 107





	I am a familiar creak in your floorboards.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspo was Wilbur's cover of Waste/ I am a familiar creak in your floorboards by Crywank.

Wilbur collapses back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling with an unbreaking, cold, empty stare. The ceiling is too flat and plain. The warm off-white feeling dull in the dark, barely illuminated by the blinking lights from across the room. 

He sighs and turns onto his side, curling himself up smaller, an arm slung over his own waist. He longs for the warmth beside him. He would never forget that trip months ago and how amazing it felt to not fall asleep alone. To be touched and held and loved for just breathing in the same presence as his lover.

It isn’t like Nick has just disappeared or that they split or anything. It was just that Nick was busy. He had less time to talk to Wilbur as of late. It left Wilbur without much distraction. His mind always wandered to darker places. 

His mind is split between the loneliness he felt without Nick to fall asleep with, and the memory of Nick’s warm, safe hands on him. Soft fingertips running over his body, teasing his skin, and bringing fire into every nerve. Around his throat, in his hair, holding him down. 

He wants that back. He would drop everything if it meant being next to him again for a while longer. He knew they would see each other again someday soon, but it didn’t stop his desire. Part of him wondered if he had done something within the last few days that made Nick pull back from him. 

His breath hitches thinking about Nick’s hand on his thigh, his own hand moving down to mimic that thought. It wasn’t the same. Even when he pictures him there, even when he thinks about that exact same feeling. Squeezing his own thigh brings him nothing but sorrow and need for the real deal.

He’s still hard, though. He can feel himself growing in his briefs. It brings a flush to his cheeks. Thinking about how pathetic he was to be so distraught, yet getting off on the memories of being with his lover. His lips part, a sigh leaving as he moves his hand between his legs, palming slowly. 

He’s teasing himself the way Nick always tells him to. Slow, gentle, enough to make him want more and more, to the point that he has to use all his will to not rock his hips into it. He hadn’t earned more. Not yet. 

Wilbur moves onto his back. His eyes stare again at the empty ceiling. Another reminder that he was by himself. That he was going to jerk off alone. With a groan, Wilbur covered his eyes with his forearm, his other hand still palming slowly at his covered erection. Commands to look at Nick run through his mind. But he knows he can’t bring himself to look, he knows he’s alone.

His hand slides under the fabric of his briefs, taking hold of his length, stroking over it a few times. He breaths out a low huff, rubbing his thumb over the tip. Wilbur presses his lips together, suppressing a little gasp, his chest flutters with the intake of breath. 

He strokes himself slowly, bringing his hand up, rubbing over the head, making him buck his hips up a bit. He remembered how Nick would pin them down. Keep him from moving. It felt so good. Though, the feeling wouldn’t compare to when it was him. Everything felt better when it was Nick.

He sighs again, moving his briefs down first before picking up his pace slightly. Wilbur moves his arm from over his eyes to tangle a hand in his hair, trying to think of it being Nick’s. He wants every touch to be him. He just can’t imagine it. It doesn’t feel the same.

He grips at his hair, gently pulling, just a bit, pumping himself as he does so. It draws a whine from his throat, then he quickly swallows down a second. Continuing like this could get his mind off of everything else. The consistency makes waves of pleasure and warmth spread over him. He wants Nick. He wants Nick to make those thoughts go away. 

His mind is almost dizzy as his stomach gets tight. He doesn’t want to finish yet. Nick would draw it out, too. He liked to make Wilbur beg. He can’t bring himself to right now, though. Not when there’s no pay-off. But, fuck, he wanted more. He slows his movement, panting a bit and huffing as little trembles work through him. 

He’s speeding up once more, his back slightly arched now as he pulls at his hair again. He can imagine Nick telling him he looks pretty. Telling him he’s doing good. Wilbur was in no place to deny it. He liked how it felt to be praised. It always makes him feel like he’s floating. Small and safe and loved. A moan cracks from Wilbur’s lips, making him pant moments after.

“Nick-”

The habit of moaning for his lover is a hard one to break away from. 

“Nick- please, fuck.” 

His hips jerk a bit and his back arches. He releases, warmth flashing over him, making his mind hazy. It feels good. There are little pinpricks of pleasure all over his body. He’s sighing out, long and low, slowly stroking himself through his climax. 

Swallowing down a few desperate breaths, he lets his hands collapse at his sides. It’s so quiet without Nick finishing with him. It feels so cold. No arms around him, no lips against his skin where he needs. He doesn’t have the attention he craves.

He can’t believe he’s crying. His breath is caught a few times, leaving him hiccuping out sobs as he curls up. He holds himself again, arms wrapped around his own waist, shoving his face into his pillow.

He didn’t want to be alone. He was so cold.


End file.
